Seeds
by Jaystorm Skirata
Summary: Owlpaw is a young WindClan apprentice, thriving in a time of peace for the Clans. But slowly, darkness will make its way into one cat's heart, and a sudden string of murders leads Owlpaw and an unlikely ally to hunt for the truth. The revelation will end the age of peace, and a time of darkness will take hold. Owlpaw and his friends will have to meet it head-on.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

It was night in the forest. Cool breezes swept down from the moorlands to the north, and the crescent moon shone through the high treetops of the four massive oak trees. Beneath the bristling canopy of orange and red leaves, stood a giant rock. Five cats stood atop the Great Rock, speaking in hushed tones to one another.

"Petalstar," one of the cats, a wiry gray tom meowed impatiently. "You're paranoid. How do we know that something is going to happen? What if your hare-brained medicine cat just had a _dream_? Why do you always think it's a _warning_?" Petalstar, who was pacing across the cool surface of the rock, bared her teeth. "Because I don't doubt Brackenleaf's abilities, Wrenstar," she snapped. "If what she's saying is true, all of the Clans might fall." Wrenstar rolled his blue eyes.

"Sure. So you want us to start preparing for a war that might never come?" he asked dryly. A small ginger she-cat sat at the edge of the rock, gazing intently upward towards the trees. "You know," she meowed thoughtfully. "We should listen. ThunderClan isn't usually wrong about things." Wrenstar's eyes widened in disbelief. "So you'll agree because Petalstar is all-knowing?" he snapped. "It's always ThunderClan, isn't it? They'll always end up saving our pelts! And you of all cats agree, Squirrelstar You just got out of a war with them -" Squirrelstar stood and rounded on the tom.

"Last time SkyClan didn't listen to a medicine cat, we got our leader and a load of others killed. So I don't think ThunderClan is the greatest Clan in the forest, but I do think that we should listen."

Wrenstar hissed, but said nothing more. Petalstar smirked triumphantly at him.

"Don't take that that the wrong way," Squirrelstar warned the white she-cat.

"Well," a deep mew grumbled from a dip in the rock, startling all three of the others. "ShadowClan will prepare, but I feel like I'm on Wrenstar's side of things," he told them, standing and revealing himself to be a giant smoky gray tomcat. "Nothing is probably going to happen." Wrenstar nodded in agreement.

"Some cat has some sense," he muttered. Petalstar scowled.

"You all are fox-brained," she snapped. "What happens when this threat does come? You'll come running for our help, that's what." Squirrelstar rolled her eyes at the ThunderClan leader, but turned to a glossy silver she-cat that was laying lazily on the lower part of the rock. "Where do you stand?" the cat shrugged. "I suppose I'll prepare, but RiverClan will be absolutely fine," she meowed. "Whatever menace that will rise from one of the Clans won't hurt my Clan, I assure you."

"Then this meeting is adjourned," Petalstar meowed, leaping down from the rock. "I'll see you all at the Gathering." The leader then padded across the wide clearing that was sheltered by the four oaks, slipped into the forest, and was gone. Without speaking, Wrenstar slid down the face of the rock and stalked off, fuming, and padded off to the moor.

"Wrenstar!" an angry hiss greeted him as he returned to the sandy hollow that made his Clan camp. "Where have you _been_?" The wiry tom scowled.

"Petalstar called a meeting at Fourtrees," he repeated, a little apologetically as a brown she-cat stepped in front of him. She had short cropped fur and brilliant blue eyes. "I went to your den to find you, and you weren't there. I..." her voice quivered. "I had a horrible dream, Wrenstar." His eyes widened in alarm. "What was it, Mudheart?" The she-cat licked her paws quickly, then looked back up at the WindClan leader, and took a long breath. She then replied.

"It was... it was Mothflight, you know, the first medicine cat? And she told me... she told me that..." Wrenstar hissed. "Go on."

"_A seed of darkness will sprout from the heart of the forest," she whispered. "And the Clans will be plunged into everlasting night_."

"What?" Wrenstar growled, his short tail lashing. _That's the same prophecy that Petalstar said her medicine cat was sent. _"Is there any way to stop this darkness?" he asked, fear creeping into his voice. "Can we do something?" He looked at Mudheart for reassurance, but the she-cat just shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry, Wrenstar," she meowed. "There is nothing we can do but prepare for whatever is coming to the Clans."


	2. Chapter One

_Minimint12: Quite 'write'! _

_General Crimson: Thank you for the constructive criticism. I'll be a bit more careful in this chapter._

**One**

Owlpaw raced across the moor, the strong wind blowing through his short brown fur. His fellow apprentice, Coltpaw, was ahead of him, streaking across the ground. Owlpaw out on a burst of speed, trying to catch up with the taller apprentice.

"Go, Owlpaw!" called Sheeppaw, a fluffy white tom, from the sidelines. Owlpaw rolled his eyes, but kept going. The apprentices were racing to Outlook Rock, and so far, Coltpaw was winning. The black tom was taller, with longer legs; definitely an advantage for running.

Outlook rock was just a few fox-lengths away. Owlpaw panted, putting on an extra burst of speed to try to catch up.

_I'm going to lose. _

And he did. Coltpaw leaped smoothly onto one of the ledges of Outlook Rock, yowling in triumph.

"I win!" he declared, bringing Owlpaw to a halt, just a tail-length away from the Rock. He was breathing hard, trying to suck the air back into his lungs. He was exhausted; Owlpaw was better at endurance running, long distance. Short distance was hard for him, but he would have to learn; he was WindClan, and WindClan were runners.

Jaystorm, Coltpaw's mentor, leaped down from the top of Outlook Rock, looking pleased. "Very good, Coltpaw," he congratulated his apprentice. Flywing, Owlpaw's mentor, climbed down swiftly and rested his tail-tip on Owlpaw's shoulder. "You did alright," he mewed. "But we'll have to work on yours running." Owlpaw nodded, finally regaining his breath.

"Okay," he replied, flicking his tail. "But I want to rest, if that's okay..."

Flywing let out a _mrrow_ of laughter. "Of course you can," he said. "You and Coltpaw get back to camp and find something to eat. We'll be back by sunhigh." Owlpaw nodded gratefully.

"Thanks," he meowed, and made his way over to where Coltpaw was pacing, his tail flicking. "Coltpaw," he told his fellow apprentice. "Flywing said we could go back to camp and get some fresh-kill." The black tom glanced at him, then nodded.

"Okay, Owlpaw," he meowed coolly. "Let's go." He turned and led the way over the moor and back to camp. It was quiet; the billowing of the wind fell into the background of their hearing. They spoke little to each other. Owlpaw and Coltpaw had an easy friendship. Not best friends, but there was peace between them.

They reached the WindClan camp, a sandy dip in the ground that could protect from the wind, and was hard to spot on the plain, and it was surrounded by a low gorse wall. They padded through the low gorse tunnel that formed the entrance of camp, and slipped inside.

The camp was filled with quiet activity; the kittens were playing in the small area outside of the nursery, elders were gossiping in their den, and the warriors were sharing tongues lazily in the clearing. The prey-heap was in the near-center of the hollow, brimming with hares, rabbits, and various fowl. The two apprentices approached the heap, checking it hungrily for a piece they liked. Coltpaw decided on a plump starling, and Owlpaw chose a young hare that had been freshly caught by the last hunting patrol. They sat down near the prey heap and began to eat. They chatted only a little; they were famished from the race.

They finished their midday meal just as the other apprentices, Firepaw and Sheeppaw, entered camp with their mentors, Pheasentfeather and Gorsewind. Pheasentfeather had a smug look on his face, telling Owlpaw that his apprentice, Firepaw, had won her race.

Sheeppaw raced over to them, and Owlpaw sighed. _Annoying furball! _He thought. Sheeppaw was a fluffy white tom, and one that constantly bugged Owlpaw. He was just constantly talking, and asking Owlpaw questions that he didn't know the answers to, like 'What are we doing today for training?' _No, I don't, bee-brain, _he thought. _I'm not Gorsewind. _

"Hey, Owlpaw," he mewed, settling down "How'd you like running against Coltpaw?"

"Fine," he replied curtly. Sheeppaw couldn't take a hint.

"I was against Firepaw," he rambled on. _No, really?_

"She's so _fast_! I don't know how she does it."

"Okay," Owlpaw sighed, standing. "I'll see you later." The brown apprentice left quickly, not wanting to be followed by his annoying companion. He didn't know why Sheeppaw didn't understand his attempts to get rid of him. It was rather obvious that he didn't want him around, but Sheeppaw was still a thorn in his side.

"Owlpaw!" Flywing's voice called from the gorse tunnel. "Come on, we're going hunting."

"Okay," the apprentice mewed, trotting to his mentor. "I'm ready." Flywing dipped his head and led Owlpaw outside onto the moor. The afternoon sun shone down on the plain, warming the ground underpaw.

_I'm glad_ _I live here_, Owlpaw thought, gazing around. When he had first stepped upon the moor that made WindClan's territory, just three moons ago, he had been in awe. Soon, he would be a warrior, defending this territory proudly. He was glad to be WindClan.

"Okay," Flywing meowed, stopping on the side of a small slope. "Get three pieces of prey, then meet at Outlook Rock."

"Okay!" Owlpaw dipped his head, smirking. "I can do that." He turned and dashed off across the rocky plain.

When he returned to his mentor around sunset at the Rock, he had four pieces of prey dangled from Owlpaw's jaws. Two small hares, a plump adult rabbit, and a wren. He had a scratch across his flank from the rabbit; it had kicked at Owlpaw with his back legs, and the prey had sharp claws, normally used for digging. He had killed it a bit sloppily with a slash to the side, then returned.

"Good work!" Flywing praised, his eyes revealing surprise. "Four pieces, even better. We'll go back to camp, and you can give the hares to the elders. Then rest. No more training for today."

"Thanks!" Owlpaw sighed in relief. His sides were heaving with exhaustion from all the running.

As they turned to climb down the rock and return to camp, they saw two cats streaking across the moor. As they got closer, Owlpaw recognized the pelts of Gorsewind and Firepaw. Flywing and his apprentice jumped down from the rock, abandoning the four pieces of prey at the base of it. _We can pick it up later. _

"Have you seen Sheeppaw anywhere?" Gorsewind asked Flywing, digging his claws into the soil. Flywing shook his head. Owlpaw lifted his head.

"He was back in camp last time I saw him," he meowed, trying to be helpful. Gorsewind sighed.

"That was the last place I saw him, too," he hissed. "Then he just disappeared."

"Could you help us?" Firepaw asked, worried. He scowled. He had never seen Firepaw even look at Sheeppaw, and now she was worried. He pushed it aside. He would think about that later. He had to go find that annoying furball now.

The four cats dashed across the moor, calling Sheeppaw's name, trying to scent him. Every so often, they would find a faded trail, and follow it, but then it would die out quickly. "Fox-dung," he heard Gorsewind mutter. "Where could the bee-brain be?"

After a while longer of searching, the stars were already out, their light shining brightly down upon the territory. Flywing sighed as they began to slow their pace.

"Look," he mewed gently to Gorsewind. "We have to go back. It's too late, and the apprentices have to get to bed." Gorsewind hissed.

"My apprentice is missing!" he protested. "We just can't abandon him!"

Firepaw and Owlpaw shared a glance, then returned them to the warriors. Flywing was silent for a moment, then shook his head. "We'll go on for a little while more," he decided. "But if we don't find Sheeppaw soon, we go back." Then Owlpaw's mentor forged ahead, into the lengthening grass. They followed, looking even more intently.

They split up, and after a few more minutes of searching, Owlpaw was about find the others and suggest going back, until an anguished yowl got their attention. He darted towards the source of the cry.

He found Gorsewind in a low dip in the ground, his fur bristling. The young warrior was frantically licking the limp form of a cat. It was small, puffy, and white. With a sickening feeling, Owlpaw knew who it was.

Sheeppaw, the annoying furball, just a moon younger than Owlpaw, lay dead in the dip in the ground.


	3. Chapter Two

**Two**

ThunderClan scent wafted off of the body as Owlpaw scrambled into the dip, pushing past Gorsewind and titled his head to press his ear against the apprentice's chest. He had seen Mudheart, the medicine cat, do it before to check a tunneler's, Hollowsteps, breathing once, when a tunnel collapsed and he was knocked unconscious. He hoped it worked now. He held on to the hope that Sheeppaw was still breathing. He didn't know why; the fluffy tom was like a tick on Owlpaw's ear, never leaving him alone, but he never wanted him to _die_.

"Is he alive?" Gorsewind hissed, lashing his tail. The young warrior's yellow eyes were wide with fear. ThunderClan scent wafted off of the body, and Owlpaw wrinkled his nose. After a few heartbeats more, Owlpaw sat up.

"I'm not sure," he mewed, his voice trembling. "We need a medicine cat." Gorsewind nodded, then perked up as Firepaw and Flywing entered the dip.

"What happened?" Flywing demanded, staring at Sheeppaw. "Is he alive?"

Firepaw inspected the apprentice's body, then glanced up. "I'll go get Mudheart," he meowed quickly, her eyes flashing. He could understand why she wanted to go: Sheeppaw's once-white body was covered in dark red blood, which dribbled from his slightly opened mouth. It covered his throat and chest, and it was pooling on the ground underneath him.

"Gorsewind, Owlpaw" Flywing meowed, a bit exasperated. "If he's alive, then he needs air. The blood might be blocking his airway." The older warrior pushed both the apprentice and the warrior and titled Sheeppaw's head slightly, and used his claw to open his jaws. "This should help him until Mudheart gets here."

"Since when did you become a medicine cat?" Gorsewind muttered, digging his claws into the ground.

"Since accidents started happening," Flywing snapped. "If you are far out in the territory, you need to be able to heal basic injuries."

_This isn't a basic injury, _Owlpaw thought, sheathing and unsheathing his claws. _Sheeppaw could be dead!_

Dawn light was already beginning to shine across the moor when Firepaw returned with the young medicine cat Mudheart behind her. Both cats had large ferns with something wrapped inside clamped in their jaws.

"What happened?" the medicine cat asked, pawing at Sheeppaw's limp body.

"I don't know," Gorsewind responded, shaking his head and shivering. "I... found him like this. There was ThunderClan scent, too. I-I think that he c-crossed the border and was at-attacked."

Mudheart was only half-listening.

"Good, you opened up the airway," she muttered. She rolled Sheeppaw over onto his back, and gasped as a long, bloody gash was revealed, starting at his belly and leading up to his lower chest. The medicine cat flashed her gaze upward.

"Did you not check this?" she hissed. All three toms shook their heads, eyes wide.

_Well, is he dead? _Owlpaw didn't really care about what the wounds were; he wanted to know whether Sheeppaw was alive or not.

"Well," Mudheart meowed, regaining her calm. "He's alive, but in a very bad condition. I need to get him back to camp." She turned and opened up the fern wrap, and revealed the contents: a few herbs, cobwebs, and moss. She ginger took a few leaves, chewed them up, and spat them out onto the ground. She rubbed her paw pad in it, and rubbed it over the gash.

"What is that for?" Flywing growled impatiently. Her face was turned away from them, but Owlpaw could tell she was rolling her eyes.

"It's going to keep it from getting infected, and help the cobwebs stick," she replied coolly. Owlpaw had to admire her ability to remain calm; he would have been panicking right now.

"Should I go get Wrenstar?" Firepaw asked, making Owlpaw jump. He had forgotten she was there, and for a moment, he was embarrassed.

"Yes, but don't bring him here," Mudheart replied, beginning to close up the wound with the cobwebs. "Owlpaw and Flywing, go with him. There are too many cats here as it is."

The three cats nodded, and Owlpaw was the first to dash out of the dip. He was getting nauseous, seeing all the blood, and Sheeppaw's insides.

They streaked across the moor, with Flywing in the lead, Firepaw second, and Owlpaw at the rear. They reached camp quickly. Owlpaw was panting as he left the gorse tunnel and headed straight for where Wrenstar was sleeping, curled up with his mate, Fennelpelt.

"Wrenstar!" Firepaw mewed, poking the Clan leader's shoulder with her paw, claws sheathed. "Sheeppaw is injured! Mudheart is with him -"

The Clan leader's head jerked up.

"What?" he asked, standing and waking Fennelpelt. "Where? How?"

Owlpaw answered. "Near the ThunderClan border. We don't know how, but he's badly hurt." His tone was filled surprising worry; it was known around the camp – to most cats except Sheeppaw – that Owlpaw didn't like the fluffy apprentice very much.

"Where's Gorsewind?" Wrenstar demanded, glaring around camp.

"With him now," Flywing replied, cutting in before Firepaw could speak. "Mudheart said for us to wait here and tell you." Wrenstar nodded grimly.

"Alright, but I want to question Sheeppaw about this once he's recovered," he mewed, stretching. "Go back to your duties. Flywing, you and your apprentice could help out on the next hunting patrol." The senior warrior dipped his head, then turned to Owlpaw.

"Sheeppaw's going to be fine, Owlpaw," he assured the apprentice. "Now, let's find the others."

* * *

Owlpaw dashed after the rabbit, his paws barely touching the ground as he ran across the short grass, forcing the prey to swerve to the left. Gasping for breath, Owlpaw sped up, his claws nearly in reach of the rabbit...

A cat exploded out of the ground, sending clumps of dirt and grass and roots into the air.

"Hey!" Owlpaw exclaimed indignantly as Redpaw darted towards the rabbit. The ginger apprentice had come through a tunnel, surprising Owlpaw and the prey. The rabbit was halted in horror, with two hungry cats closing in from both sides.

Redpaw knocked into the rabbit, forcing it onto it's side. Regaining his senses, Owlpaw lunged forward and hooked the stunned animal in his unsheathed claws, slitting it's neck open and dragging it away from Redpaw before he could get it.

Seeing the red blood of the dead rabbit made Owlpaw queasy; it reminded him too much of the blood that pooled around Sheeppaw that night, almost five sunrises ago. Owlpaw's fellow apprentice was healing well, but he was constantly asleep or unconscious. That was the only good thing about the entire incident: Sheeppaw wouldn't bug him for a while.

"That was my rabbit!" Redpaw complained, shaking Owlpaw from his thoughts. "I scared it still, and you killed it!" Owlpaw sighed. Redpaw was a hot-headed cat, much like his mentor, Heatherleaf. He was training as a tunneler, and tunnelers didn't hunt aboveground prey.

"Yeah, but I was chasing it first," Owlpaw snapped. "so back off!" The apprentice snatched his rabbit off the ground before Redpaw could reply, and he stalked away, towards the abandoned badger set, where Flywing was hunting.

"You've been no fun, Owlpaw!" Redpaw called after him, lashing his stumpy tail. "You didn't even like Sheeppaw until now!"

Owlpaw muttered something under his breath. _Shut up, Redpaw. _

Flywing was waiting for Owlpaw by the badger set, flicking his tail impatiently.

"There you are," the older warrior meowed. "What did you catch?" He inspected the rabbit. "One scrawny piece of fresh-kill, and a sloppy kill at that." Owlpaw scowled.

"Redpaw tried to catch this at the same time," he grunted. Flywing rolled his eyes.

"Well, take that to the nursery," his mentor sighed. "And then go check on the elders. They've been complaining about ticks lately."

"Fine," Owlpaw muttered, taking the rabbit and heading back towards camp.

"Owlpaw," Flywing's concerned mew stopped him. "Just... calm down, alright? Sheeppaw's healing fine. He'll get back to annoying you in no time."

_It's not that Sheeppaw's not well that's bothering me, _he thought as he walked. _It's the fact that no one is wondering _who_ attacked him. Does no one else sense a threat? _


	4. Chapter Three

**Three**

"Graytalon, Flywing, Applegorse, Icewatcher, Hollowstep, Rockyfur, Redpaw, Owlpaw, and Firepaw, you'll be coming to the Gathering tonight," Harefoot, the WindClan deputy, announced from beneath the Tallrock in the center of camp. "I advise you all rest and get something to eat, because we leave right after sundown."

Owlpaw, who had been eating a piece of fresh-kill with Coltpaw and Firepaw, looked up as his name was called. He glanced at Coltpaw, who looked disapointed.

"Cheer up," Firepaw mewed, nudging Coltpaw with her shoulder. "I'll you all about it when we get back." Coltpaw sighed.

"Fine," he replied, stretching. "I'll be asleep by then. Jaystorm keeps me tired out!"

Owlpaw yawned, finishing the last of his share of the prey, a plump vole, and standing. "I'm going to sleep," he told them. "See you at sunset."

WindClan didn't sleep in proper dens or nests. Warriors, apprentices, and even the Clan leader liked to sleep outside, under the stars. If there was a storm or bad weather, they would retreat into the network of tunnels that lay near camp. Owlpaw had claimed a sleeping spot near the base of the Tallrock; he liked sleeping in the shadow of the tall boulder, because it made him feel protected. The apprentice settled down to take a nap. Gatherings usually went long into the night, and Owlpaw preferred to stay awake for the whole thing. He closed his eyes, and after a while, he drifted to sleep.

"Wake up, sleepy-head!" Firepaw's voice cut into Owlpaw's sleep. The brown apprentice looked up, scowling. "I was having the most wonderful dream," he grumbled, standing and licking his shoulder. "I was out -"

"We're going!" Firepaw exclaimed, cutting him off. "We're going to be late if we don't get a move on!"

Owlpaw purred. Firepaw had this way of making everything and everyone around her cheerful. The two had become friends quickly, and he had to admit that he had feelings for her. He followed the red she-cat as she padded after Applegorse, who was taking the rear of the patrol.

As usual, WindClan was the first Clan to reach the hollow of Fourtrees, a wide clearing surrounded by four great oak trees. It was leaf-fall, so the red, orange, and yellow leaves were spiraling down toward the grassy ground. They crunched under paw as they entered the hollow, taking up their places.

Owlpaw and Firepaw settled towards the middle of the clearing, just outside of the shadow of the Great Rock, a giant boulder that stood erect in the center. It shone white when the moonlight struck the surface. It awed Owlpaw whenever he looked at it; he had seen it like this only twice before, the past two moons. It was a beatiful sight.

"Incoming bird-catchers," Firepaw warned, using her tail to point at the cats entering the hollow: SkyClan. They were a Clan that hunted among and in the trees. They were the only Clan that didn't share a border with WindClan, so Owlpaw had little contact with them, but he did know that they were a proud Clan that fought like tigers when they were threatened.

ThunderClan and RiverClan entered after them, their Clan's already mingling and talking. He scowled. Wrenstar had accused ThunderClan of Sheeppaw's attack, and since then, every WindClan cat had been wary of the Clan in the forest.

"Where's ShadowClan?" Owlpaw muttered, licking his paw and drawing it over his ear. Firepaw shrugged.

"Late."

"We'll have to start soon," he mewed, then sat up straight as ThunderClan scent washed over his nose. He hissed as a dark gray cat, just a bit taller and muscular than both Owlpaw and Firepaw, sat down next to them.

"Hi," he told them cheerfully. "I'm Burntpaw, of ThunderClan. Who are you two?" Owlpaw scowled, but said nothing. It was Firepaw who replied.

"I'm Firepaw," she meowed carefully. "And this is Owlpaw. We are from WindClan."

Burntpaw nodded and flicked his tail. "Thought so. You guys are so scrawny!"

"And you're so round," Owlpaw growled under his breath. _What's with him? _He thought, irritated. Burntpaw turned to him, twitching his ear.

"What?" the

"Nothing."

Owlpaw waited awkwardly, hoping either Burntpaw or Firepaw would say something. Fortunately, Wrenstar yowled for the Gathering to begin, without ShadowClan. All three apprentices looked up as the WindClan leader stepped back and allowed Squirrelstar, the SkyClan leader, to begin. She spoke of the normal, just rich hunting, preparing for the cold months of leaf-bare, nothing really of interest.

Then, Petalstar of ThunderClan began to speak, then, she said something startling.

"Just a quarter moon ago," the white she-cat meowed for all the cats to hear. "One of our warriors, Sandfur, was murdered." Gasps rose up from the gathered cats.

"Another attack?" Owlpaw hissed to Firepaw. She shrugged, and Burntpaw turned to them.

"Yeah," he whispered, his gaze falling. "We found her on -"

"Her body was found on Sunningrocks," Petalstar went on. "With RiverClan scent all over her."

Immediately, the RiverClan cats were yowling in protest. Owlpaw winced as one particular RiverClan tabby began snarling at a ThunderClan she-cat nearby. Burntpaw slouched beside him. "This was bound to happen," he muttered, flattening his ears. Firepaw rolled her eyes and leaned towards Owlpaw. "This is ridiculous," she whispered. Owlpaw just nodded.

"Think about what happens when we announce that Sheeppaw was attacked by ThunderClan," he replied as the protests and fighting died down.

Owlpaw barely heard RiverClan's report, partly because he was too on edge about ThunderClan's reaction about Sheeppaw, and partly because the Flashstar's voice was quivering with rage as she spoke. Finally, it was Wrenstar's turn to speak.

"Cats of all the Clans," the wiry gray tom began. "One of WindClan's apprentices was found on the ThunderClan border a moon ago," he meowed, and before ThunderClan could rise to defend themselves, he went on. "Sheeppaw was mauled almost to death, but is now recovering." Silence greeted his words. Burntpaw shifted uncomfortably, then whispered to Owlpaw.

"This is why you're uncomfortable around me," he murmured, titling his head. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Owlpaw muttered in reply.

"I know this is a ThunderClan cat, and I will not tolerate anything else," Wrenstar went on, his voice turning into a snarl. "So if one more WindClan cat is murdered by ThunderClan, there will be war." Then, without another word, Wrenstar leaped down from the Great Rock and stalked away, raising his tail in a signal for his Clan to follow. Owlpaw dipped his head to Burntpaw, and Firepaw rested her tail-tip on the ThunderClan apprentice's shoulder.

"Stay safe," she murmured, then stood and followed Owlpaw, who had slipped into the tight knot of WindClan warriors.

"What was that?" Owlpaw asked as they left Fourtrees and made their way back to WindClan's moor. "You barely know him." Firepaw rolled her eyes.

"He's nice, don't you see?" she hissed. "You don't need to be so stiff."

Stung by her anger, he glared at her and pushed ahead, making his way to the front of the group, behind Applegorse and Icewatcher. "Hey, wait..." Firepaw called to him, but he ignored her.

_War is on the brink, _he thought angrily as they neared camp, picking up the pace. _And you want a stupid ThunderClan apprentice to stay _safe_? _

They ran the rest of the way there, and by the time the warriors returned to camp, Owlpaw was exhausted. He glanced around; Most warriors were sleeping, and only the few guarding camp raised their heads to greet them. Owlpaw sighed; his temper had dimmed, and he turned to look for Firepaw. He wanted to apologize. Just as he spotted her, Wrenstar's voice made him turn to face the Tallrock.

"Owlpaw," the Clan leader mewed from the base of the boulder. "To my den, please."


End file.
